


Don't Go Quietly

by outruntheavalanche



Category: Glee
Genre: Arguing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outruntheavalanche/pseuds/outruntheavalanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Kurt follows after him, arms stiff at his sides, hands clenched into fists.  Now he</i> really <i>wants a fight.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go Quietly

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/karofsky_hummel/33631.html?thread=1256543#t1256543) at the [](http://karofsky_hummel.livejournal.com/profile)[**karofsky_hummel**](http://karofsky_hummel.livejournal.com/) fic meme a million years ago. Let’s say this takes place waaaay in the future. Like, the post-college, post-therapy (for both) future. FTR, I find this to be almost unbearably schmoopy and I hate how I write Kurt. :P Thanks to [](http://emeh.livejournal.com/profile)[**emeh**](http://emeh.livejournal.com/) for letting me badger her into betaing yet again. Title from “Combat Baby,” by Metric.

Kurt is putting groceries in the pantry cupboard when a large, warm body slips up behind him and lips press against the back of his neck.

“Hey. Didn’t know you were back.” Dave kisses him behind the ear and steps back, reaching into the paper bag of groceries and pulling out a couple cans of baby peas.

“I called before I left the grocery store, but your cell phone seems to be dead.” Kurt slips away, takes the cans from Dave, and puts them in the pantry.

Dave shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ll charge it later.”

“Your phone should _always_ be charged,” Kurt sighs, reaching up to brush a stray, flyaway piece of hair off his forehead. “What if something had happened?”

“Like what? That they didn’t have the brand of fabric softener you use?” Dave smirks and reaches for Kurt, but he backs away.

“I’m being serious.” Kurt picks up a loaf of bread and goes to put it away. “Let’s say I was in a car accident. You’d never know.”

“They’d probably try the landline then,” Dave points out, leaning back against the counter.

Kurt shoves the bread into the bread drawer and slams it. “Why can’t you ever take anything seriously?”

Dave crosses his arms over his chest and sets his jaw. _This should be good_ , Kurt thinks. “Why don’t you get that stick out of your ass and tell me why you’re really upset?”

Kurt scowls and turns his attention away from Dave to the butcher block on the counter. “I don’t have a stick in my ass,” he grumbles.

“Coulda fooled me.” Dave pushes away from the counter and stomps noisily-- he knows how much Kurt _hates_ it when he does that-- down the hall.

Kurt follows after him, arms stiff at his sides, hands clenched into fists. Now he _really_ wants a fight.

They’ve been together for nearly four months and they haven’t fought once, not a single time. Sure, they’ve had spats like any other couple, but they haven’t had that (figurative, of course) knockdown, drag-out fight. Given their history, though, Kurt had kind of been expecting _more_. More than just Dave slamming his fist on the counter and walking away, or Dave pouting and walking away, or . . . yeah. You get the picture.

And it’s not to say that he actually _wants_ to fight with Dave. He really likes post-college, post-therapy Dave Karofsky a lot. He’s still kind of a jerk sometimes, but mostly just to bad drivers who cut him off on the expressway and in department store parking lots, and to the neighbors who let their yippy Jack Russell terrier crap on his and Kurt’s lawn and don’t pick up after it.

Sometimes, though, Kurt kind of thinks he’d been expecting that angry, frightened high school kid hiding behind crumbling walls when he reluctantly accepted Dave’s Facebook friendship request over a year ago.

When Kurt gets to the bedroom, Dave is sitting on the end of the bed playing Halo 3. Kurt sighs and steps in front of the TV, ignoring Dave’s protests when he shuts it off.

“What’d you do that for?” Dave tosses the controller on the bed and huffs petulantly.

“I think we need to talk,” Kurt says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dave’s eyebrows shoot up in alarm. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Kurt furrows his brow and shakes his head, confused. “What? Why would you-- _what_?”

“Breakup convos always start with ‘I think we need to talk,’ ” Dave says, offering Kurt a twitchy, nervous smile.

Kurt sighs again, for what seems like the millionth time, and rubs a hand over his forehead. “I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Okay. Good. Then what’s up?” Dave picks up the Xbox controller and pats the empty spot next to him on the bed.

Kurt relents and sits next to him. He’ll save his angry, self-righteous tirade for some other time. “Don’t you think it’s kind of weird how we never fight? I mean, considering all the crap you put me through in high school . . .”

Dave looks away at that, down at the video game controller in his hand, and Kurt feels a just _little_ bad for bringing up the past. “No. Why would that be weird,” he mumbles.

“Normal couples fight,” Kurt says.

“You don’t think this is normal?” Dave glances over at him again, his face an inscrutable mask.

Kurt hates when he gets like this, when he buries his emotions and tries to rebuild those walls (he never gets too far, thankfully). It’s times like this that Kurt sees flashes of that angry, scared high school kid, despite all the effort Dave pours into appearing cool and unaffected.

“I don’t think it’s normal that we never fight over _anything_ ,” Kurt says thoughtfully, reaching up to tuck his fist under his chin. “You always back down! Even when I’m being completely irrational and unreasonable! Sometimes I just want you to stand up to me.”

Dave scrubs his hands over his face and into his hair. “I can’t, Kurt.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not that guy anymore, okay? Maybe I don’t _want_ to get mad at you or fight with you. Did you ever think about that?” Dave drops his hands in his lap and looks at Kurt, imploringly.

Kurt reaches out and closes a hand over Dave’s knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “I know you’re not. But-- what do you do?”

“What do you mean,” Dave asks.

“You have to get mad at me _sometimes_.” He squeezes on Dave’s knee some more. “Do you just keep it all bottled up inside?”

“Sometimes I work out. Or go for walks.” Dave shrugs.

Kurt raises an eyebrow in question. “And that actually helps?”

Dave shrugs some more. “I end up forgetting why I was mad in the first place. So, yeah, I guess it does.”

Kurt looks at the blank TV screen and rests his hands on his knees. “Is it because you’re afraid of hurting me?”

“Hurting you how?” Dave sounds like he thinks he won’t like where this conversation is heading.

“I don’t know. By saying something really mean or hurtful. Or getting physical,” Kurt says, quietly.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t think you would, but sometimes we do things in the heat of the moment and-- ”

Dave cuts him off with a sharp laugh. “I know _all_ about doing stupid things in the heat of the moment. Believe me.” He rests his arms across his knees and lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, sometimes I think I could go back to being that person. If I gave myself a chance to, you know? It’s why I walk away. I don’t even want the _chance_ to be that guy again, the guy who’d say nasty things to you or push you around.”

Kurt nods slowly, processing this bit of information. “I see.”

“Are you-- are you cool with that? Do you really want to fight more?” Dave sounds uncertain, almost _small_. “It’s obviously something you’ve been thinking about.”

“No, I don’t. I’m good,” Kurt says. “Honestly, I am. I guess it helped to hear why.” He slips an arm behind Dave’s waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

“Good,” Dave murmurs.

Kurt feels Dave’s mouth brush lightly against his forehead and he smiles. “I guess you could say this was kind of our first real fight.”

“About how we don’t fight,” Dave snorts, kissing him on the forehead again.

“We are ridiculous,” Kurt says, with a laugh.

“ _We_?” Dave bumps his shoulder into Kurt’s, laughing too.

Kurt nudges him back. “Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.” Dave grins wickedly at Kurt.

Kurt grins and slides his hands over Dave’s shoulders, pushing him back into the mattress. “That sounds like a challenge if ever I heard one, darling.”


End file.
